keep me up all night and let's dance 'til dawn, shall we?
by magma maiden
Summary: a madara/fem!hashirama drabble collection. contains au & ar. mature themed only.
1. you shall not leave unpunished

**naruto (c) masashi kishimoto**

 **ar; prompt fill**

* * *

.

.

hashirama was yawning as she entered her dark bedroom. for the first time in three nights, the hokage went to bed without leaving any single paperwork unfinished, an admirable feat since work kept piling and piling on her table. who knew that being a hokage also means getting stuck on the desk for most of her day?

she took off her outer robe, and laid herself down, sprawling her limbs on the cool bedsheet. her arm landed on something that definitely wasn't the bed: hard, smooth, _alive_.

the realization hit her like a sudden mud wall. there's someone else in her bed. did fatigue make her careless?

hashirama threw a punch to the stomach, then sat atop said person, her thighs flanking the waist, while she summoned her wood to held the limbs in place. the painful groan and uttered curses were oddly familiar, stopping her plan to alert the anbu. she adjusted her eyes to the darkness, recognizing the outline of his figure.

"...madara?"

"well, who else?" he grunted in annoyance. both of his arms were pinned above his head. "next time check first before you punch me."

"i'm so sorry! i thought you're an intruder." hashirama laid her hand on his stomach, and it glowed green as she healed him. she shifted to sit more comfortably.

madara hissed sharply. "...don't do that."

she ran her hand on his abs, tracing his muscles and battle scars. "do what?"

"that."

"this?" hashirama moved her hips against his. madara's sharingan glared back at her, his fists clenching. she repeated it again, only to feel that something was off. "huh-" she frowned. "madara-are you not wearing any...?"

"yes. now unbound me."

hashirama tightened the mokuton, ignoring his protests. "you better have a good reason for trespassing into hokage's residence and lie naked in her bed."

"...we're married, you stubborn fool." madara threw his head back into the pillow. "which means this is my bed too. my clothes are dirty from my mission, and tonight is hot. there."

"lord uchiha," hashirama deliberately lowered her voice into a whisper by the end of the word, faking a disappointed look. "you do not trespass into my bedroom, invade my bed then insult me, the hokage of konoha," she began grinding against him, "and. leave. un-pu-ni-shed."

" _hashirama_ ," madara warned her, his mangekyo flaring, lips pulled slightly upwards. "don't-"

"do you understand?"

he hissed, panting. hashirama untied her robe and lay on top of his body, putting her best innocent smile. "is that a yes or no?"

madara begrudgingly nodded. hashirama pulled herself up, her mokuton disappearing. before she could lie on her pillow, madara caught her wrists, pinning her down and grinning.

"don't think you can tease me like that and sleep unpunished," he whispered in her ear before biting the skin on her neck.

hashirama bit her lip, holding back her noise. "i wasn't..." she yelped as his hand made its way under her robe, grabbing her breast.

"is that so, lady senju?" madara stared at her flushed face. "i think you won't get any sleep tonight because of what you just did..."

he kissed her then, fierce and demanding, their fingers intertwined above her head, strands of dark hair tangled together under the heat of summer night.

and hashirama regretted nothing at all.


	2. dragonless - pain

**asoiaf!naruto; tied to the other drabbles in my other collections titled _dragonless._ fem!izuna.**

* * *

.

.

a raven perched on the only empty chair of the small council. a thin red ribbon tied on its leg. it meant only one thing:

izuna was dead.

their heated discussion abruptly stopped as emperor madara cursed aloud and stormed out the room. she was not supposed to go, no. but she was his commander general and crown princess. her presence was needed to quell the rebellious clan in the east. the kaguya would pay for her death, oh he would make them pay with every last soul of their bone-growing brood. dragonless he was, but nobody would say uchiha madara was less deadlier than any of his dragon-riding ancestors.

he alone should suffice.

"madara!"

he stopped, listening to her hasty footsteps descending the staircase. what does she want now, of all times?

"don't go."

angrily he turned around, pushing the empress to a wall. "you don't understand, hashirama," he hissed, the boiling rage in his chest distorted his voice, and he tasted ashes on his throat. "you don't care about izuna the way i do. they will have to pay."

"and they will pay." hashirama dared to look at him in the eye and said everything will be okay-no, nothing would be okay or the same not until madara gave them the taste of death just like they stole izuna's life.

his hands needed to destroy.

hashirama's hands slowly lifted, cupping his cheeks with trembling fingers. "madara, you're the emperor of the realm."

"don't i have the right to punish those who slew my heir?" he shook her bare shoulders. she responded by hugging him. he had to swallow back his fire.

"they're luring you out," she said softly, rubbing his back, "it is you whom they want to kill. i want them to pay for izuna's death too, but if you go alone-"

"i won't die."

"don't risk it. the realm needs you-"

"and where was i when my sister needed me?" he growled into her bare neck, releasing his fiery breath upon her skin. her passive regeneration kicked in, undoing the damage he inflicted.

madara admired and hated this ability of hers. he could never, ever truly hurt her. she would brush off the pain and laugh. even when they were against each other, she was only focused to stop the war.

hashirama saw the emperor, but not himself.

for a senju lady trained to fight the sharingan, every waking moment is a war against him, despite her belief that peace had returned to the realm.

( **this blood of asura makes an ugly empress, don't you think?** )

"do you want me to go?" she asked back, and it sounded like a mockery.

"you?" he laughed, incredulous. "izuna won't forgive me if i didn't go get her body home." madara put some distance between them.

"bring an army with you," she said, almost like a plea. if it was truly a plea, she'd say it as if she was standing on some pedestal built by the other half of the realm who refused to bend their knees for him.

he hated how she easily swayed the commoners, the nobles, his own supporters to join her side, and before long the entire realm had bent their knees for her. madara was the emperor, the only one acknowledged by the throne, but hashirama made it no less than a title.

anger flowed within his bloodstream; anger, hatred, jealousy and one thousand other things unnamed by the scholars. they were lost and distraught, unable to find a proper release.

there was only one way out.

"i don't need an army," he said as he pulled her into a kiss, leaving her no room to breathe.

he burned and bruised her again that night, but she merely closed her eyes and sang painful pleasures that agitated him to no end. her skin healed before he could leave his marks, while she dug lines on his back that would serve as a reminder for days.

that no matter how hard madara hurt her, hashirama would never truly tasted the pain.

and they would never look at each other in the eye.

.

.

.

it was an hour before dawn when he gazed at the empress's sleeping form, and jumped out the window. the darkness concealed him as he ran towards the east. he summoned the fox when he was far enough from the palace.

madara vowed to bring izuna home, and he would.


	3. by the first light

**prompt fill; can be read as a prequel to the ninth drabble in my other collection, _a dance of flame and forest_.**

* * *

.

.

home is behind.

hashirama didn't look back, didn't dare to, because if she looked back she would lost. the sight of her home–their home, dreamed and grown and built by the joining of their minds, no matter how far beyond the horizon would always, always tempt her. calling her with the voice of her brothers, both dead and alive.

"it's futile, sister," tobirama said days ago by the gates of konoha. "you could chase him to hell; madara will choose hell over you."

she merely smiled at her brother, thanking him for being worried about her before she departed.

the weight of her armor felt too much like home, and she let them fall.

"you're baring all your weaknesses," he pointed out.

"my armor is too heavy." dark hair fell around her face like a curtain.

"you think i can't wound you?"

the storm roared.

they sat apart, separated by embers between them, inside a small shelter she built. her own clothes drying, but he stubbornly clung to his soaked armor. they left the war outside, agreeing to a temporary truce as the heaven endlessly cried.

"you already do," she muttered, watching the sparks fly, fiddling with her necklace.

madara scoffed, his armor clattering. "you, wounded? you don't even bleed."

she stared ahead into the darkness. "there are wounds that don't bleed."

"can't you heal them?"

a set of dark clothes has joined hers on the drying rack. "no." hashirama felt another source of heat as he sat by her side, pulling her bare waist until she leaned on his chest.

madara was warm. warmer than the embers. hashirama didn't realize how badly she shivered until his arms wrapped around her body.

"you have enough chakra to build a hut," he said, pushing her damp hair past her shoulder and resting his chin on the other. "surely you have enough to make shackles."

"what's the point? you'll burn it again, leave me again, walking away from our dreams again…" she paused, feeling warmth spreading from the places where their skin met. "i don't want to put you in a prison."

"staying in konoha will just wound me again and again. izuna is gone, and the clan has forsaken me."

"bloodless wounds?"

"like yours."

"can i heal them?"

he said nothing, his hands squeezing her stomach.

impatient for an answer, she looked back, and hashirama was lost.

there was a strange hole in her house, the place meant to be filled by his presence. ever since he left to roam the wildlands, her home was never the same. her heart sank when she realized if he did stay, her home would never be his without izuna and the support of his clan.

madara was a lone wandering leaf, bonds and bridges burned to crisp behind him. no matter how long she chased him, fixing those bridges with her mokuton, he would burn them again and again.

her lips brushed against his, and she felt ashes fell to her shoulder.

"killing tobirama won't bring izuna back," madara whispered. "your wounds will fester and rot."

"let's not… talk about those." hashirama faced him, cupping his face. "just for tonight. we have a truce."

"it'll end by dawn."

"one night is enough."

"i'll disappear by then. when we meet again–"

"madara, please." she hugged him. "enough."

"hashirama–"

hashirama silenced him with another kiss. she dared to take the first step, and he reciprocated.

"i don't want to lose you."

no more words exchanged until they fell asleep much later, physically and emotionally exhausted, fingers intertwined in a tight grip.

.

.

.

 _but i know i will._

as promised, madara was gone by dawn. his trail was concealed well.

hashirama wasted not time to leave the hut. she walked away briskly, not looking back even once. she was already lost, but the way to konoha is ahead.

home is behind.

* * *

.

.

 **prompt is _hold me tight now because i will be gone at the first light_.**


	4. dragonless - inapu

**asoiaf!naruto. set before chapter 14 of ADOFAF.**

 **#AksaraAgustus2017 - inapu _n. dani_ \- a war ordered by the ancestors**

* * *

.

.

izuna was deeply asleep; tobirama was at the city gates, ready with an army. between his dying sister and her besieging brother, they were dancing on the tip of spears and swords, delicate branches and dragon's bones.

the war started by their ancestors wasn't over yet, and they must be alive to continue the dance until the end.

"i will not bend my knee," she told the carved face of her ancestor on the scorched tree, eleven moon phases ago, "there must be another way to end the war without sacrificing more blood of our people. i will do anything to protect the realm."

she was exhausted, vigilant, thirsty. his chakra was roaring madly wildly restlessly, filling every corner with his presence; unbidden and undeniable. if she weren't senju hashirama, she would simply lie back, close her eyes and think of the realm she was defending. but she was asura's blood, and him indra's.

they were at war. she would stand and look at her enemy-formerly a friend and a fiance, currently an emperor and her conspirator.

hashirama gripped the rims of his robe, hissing between his touches, _this is treason against our allies_. her back met the wall, heartbeat rising in anticipation. every inch of him was blazing, setting herself alight wherever his hands wandered.

madara shook his head. _don't fool yourself; they're all opportunistic, using our names and blood and ancestors to protect their own interests._ he found her lips easily in the darkness and heat of his bedroom; almost as hot as the legendary dragons' cradle.

she inhaled the scent of his mane, fingers trailing the nape of his neck. she buried her face near his clavicle, skirt hiked past her thighs, her breath hitched in her throat.

 _don't hold back._

 _the servants will hear._

 _don't care._

 _let me catch my breath._

madara retracted his hand, stepping back. hashirama was panting, a thousand thoughts swarming back into her mind, her chakra flaring, screaming, accusing: treachery.

no, their betrothal was never broken. let's say they were merely honoring the pact their fathers made years ago. the uchiha's blood oath would protect her from anyone who wished to see her dead. tonight might be their only shot. no healers could tell whether izuna would survive or die in her care.

 _hashi._

his robe fell. she pushed madara to his bed, drawn by her desire to explore him further, guessing where her enemy ended to begin her...

her what? friend fiance ally? rival? are these things still important before the war cries they're dancing to?

hashirama sat above him, memorizing and tasting the emperor. madara was a plane of muscles and battle scars; most she carved herself, and she smirked to that thought. she traced one across his right chest, a remnant from their first spar using an actual sword. another on his left side, near the hips, from their meeting in the woods on the day her powers awakened.

 _we don't have all night_ , he said as he unclasped her dress.

she threw away her clothes, almost seeing into his eyes that would break her first rule of war. with ease madara switched their position, sinking his teeth into her exposed neck. she clutched his back, gasping. the dragon had marked her.

hashirama opened her eyes to the dark canopy above them, thinking about the wreaked realm, their betrayed allies and siblings, their uncertain future-tomorrow the crown princess could die or her brother would storm the palace after four nights waiting or-

 _madara, madara, madara_

-she could be waking up pregnant with an uchiha heir.


	5. shackles

**facebook prompt fill: slavery AU**

* * *

.

.

when madara woke up, he wasn't in his cell anymore. he was lying on a soft bed, blindfolded and wrist-bound. the air was chill, it felt worse because all he wore was a thin cloth draped waist down. two chakra suppressants circled his upper arms, preventing him from using his full strength. the arm rings felt different. heavier, yet alive.

there's no need to replace them if his master was still that greedy colosseum owner. no one in their right mind willing to pay the price he put on madara—not when he had consecutive winnings since his arrival two weeks ago. unless... there's someone richer than the colosseum owner, the richest man in this continent; someone powerful enough to pull the strings to buy him...

a chill ran down his body as the worst scenario popped into his mind. no—that couldn't be her.

the arm rings emanated small amount of chakra. madara didn't need any effort to recognize whose chakra was embedded in the suppressants. it's hers.

 _shit. shiiiiiit._

"long time no see, madara."

the bed shifted when a new weight joined him. the blindfold was pulled away. after he adjusted his eyes to the lighting, madara found a woman sat on him. she wore a thin dress that let him to see the outline of her curves. madara pushed his head back into the blanket, opting to look at the bed's canopy.

oh from all the nobles who could've bought him, why does it have to be her?

"who said you could look away?"

he grunted. the rings glowed as she pushed his arms above his head. slender fingers traced the line of his muscles, upwards to his chin, then pulled it down, forcing madara to look at her in the eye.

senju hashirama looked the same like few years ago when he saw her single-handedly decimating his army. minus her armor and sword, of course. as she lowered her body, her hair spread across his, tickling his skin. she smelled fresh, like an awash forest floor after morning rain. her skin was warm and smooth...

"i hope you're comfortable enough," she said, smiling.

"i am, your majesty," madara replied curtly, half whispering. "this is... certainly better than my modest room back in the colosseum." he tried to ignore the desire building within him. considering their faces were inches apart and their skin met on many places, his attempt was futile at best.

"ah—" hashirama pushed forward, looking at his raised arms. his wrists were still chained. she placed her knees on both sides of his torso while leaning forward, causing him to sink further into the blanket to avoid her dangling breasts on his face.

his desire was getting more painful. his head was pounding. this isn't how he imagined their reunion...

madara was so focused with her that he didn't realize his wrists were set free. his arms fell to the sides, then grabbed her waist, bringing her back to where she sat. his effort was met with a cold stare.

"i didn't say you can touch me." her eyes were twinkling with amusement. "and where's my thanks?"

"thank you." his gratitude and apology was delivered with gritting teeth, trying not to sound too mocking. "pardon me, my queen. your humble slave has less experience in the arts of bodily pleasure. fighting is his forte."

"that's for me to decide," hashirama said, rising from the bed. "i'll let you rest tonight." she beamed.

"what—" madara rose as well, wincing as his taut skin scratched the blanket. for a moment he felt they were younger, still sparring and play-fighting as friends, so the next word that left his mouth was, "hashi—!"

he couldn't say the rest of her name. wooden roots sprung out of nowhere, binding his arm and foot, preventing him to leave the bed. the arm rings blocked his chakra from forming into solid power. no matter how hard he pulled and pushed, the roots prevailed. "take these off!"

"just sleep," hashirama sighed, already one step from the door. "you're not in a good condition to fight me."

madara growled, "take these rings off and we'll see."

whatever reply hashirama meant to say never made it out. her stare went downwards from his face. madara followed her line of sight, only to realize the cloth draped on his waist had been crumpled on the floor.

she let out a soft chuckle. "you should've said something about it."

if hashirama chose to leave, then he would deal with it himself. yet as if she could read his mind, another roots sprung to his other arm. they pulled her until he lay on the bed again. "i can't sleep like this," he hissed.

"i'll let you find a way." the queen had grabbed the door handle when he stopped her.

"wait! you bought me—right?" he hated sounding so hopeless, but hashirama was his only hope.

"i did."

"then why won't you—?" madara gestured with his chin.

her smile bloomed again. "do i need to remind you of your place, humble slave?"

he took a deep breath, focusing on her face instead of her body, and said, "please."

hashirama stood close to the bed's end, with one knee resting on its edge. "louder."

"...please."

she shook her head.

"my queen, my goddess— _please_."

finally, his words bore their intended effect. the inside of her mouth felt even warmer wrapped around his painful flesh...

.

.

as he gazed upon hashirama's sleeping face beside him, madara thought perhaps there is another kind of battle he could play with her.

a battle that would free him from the shackles of slavery.


	6. wrong beliefs

**random, canon-ish**

* * *

.

.

"what if you were wrong all along?"

the snake seal wavered, power ebbed from her veins, and the determination that filled her eyes was replaced with confusion.

"what-?"

madara cocked his head, satisfaction faintly dancing on his bloodied lips. "you heard me." he took a heavy breath; her weight had been trapping him. "what if you're wrong-we were wrong. about everything we used to believe."

her shoulders slumped. hashirama blinked. "i can't be wrong."

"same," madara laughed dryly. "but do tell-is this what you really want?"

briefly hashirama glanced skyward. then, she healed his lips as the roots retreated from his limbs. before she could move, he caught her hand.

"stay here, hashi."

"you know i can't-"

"you can," madara cut in, his sharingan appeared for a second, "i can tell you want this. you keep saying you're going to stop me-"

"i-"

"-but you've been tired." he continued more softly, "you need a release." madara let go of her hand.

they've fought from sunset to sunset, and she was weary. their armor were long gone, their clothes tattered from blows upon blows. she could bind him and drag him to the village where her soft futon was waiting, but...

"ah-!" hashirama clamped her mouth. madara just shifted his hips a little, but it burned her more intense than his fire.

he's right-she didn't want to go.

"no one will have to know, hashi."

they were so far from konoha, from everybody else. they only knew the hokage was away on a solo mission, and would be back as soon as it's done.

the sun was setting.

with trembling lips, she whispered, "alright."

the cave wall they found was cold on her back, but he was warm on her breasts, on her lips, and everywhere else, even inside her, and hashirama wondered if madara was truly a monster, a demon like everyone always said,

like what she used to believe.


	7. empress in distress

**so i played a game as an emperor in ancient china and this happens**

* * *

.

.

balancing the realm is truly a delicate thing.

empress hashirama of the senju had been able to maintain it well during her ten year reign, but now the council was itching to see an heir to the throne, and she was running out of options. as an empress, she was gifted consorts-handsomest of men from her vassal lords. she knew they were fighting to be the father to the prince or princess, and that means shattering the balance.

a little trick she learned from her childhood friend could fool them into thinking they slept with the empress while in reality they were merely dreaming. but this couldn't continue for so long. it should be stopped before she was found out.

to make matters worse, hashirama was the only surviving child of the previous emperor. she did have another brother, but without royal blood, hence unable to ascend the throne. the pressure to produce an heir was rising annually with her birthday and her waning fertility. for years she had pretended praying in temples for a child, but this time, she's doing it properly.

she left court matters to her brother, including the hunt for an infamous gang of thieves who could steal without breaking in. many lords tried to catch them, but their leader always escaped, often with the lord's insignia. tobirama could investigate it better, she was sure of it.

"don't forget to send my letter too," hashirama told him before she left the palace. "i'll see you in a fortnight."

there was a lake near the summer palace where she dwelled in her childhood. people said gods often descended at an auspicious time. the best time to ask for the most secret wishes.

on the third night she sneaked out, alone, so nobody could hear her whispered prayers. the river she followed ended at a large, mirror-like lake. stars scattered on its surface, gleaming like pearls from the southern seas. she gazed into the water, collected herself, and prayed.

"heavenly beings, my makers, protectors of the realm," hashirama called, "my throne will need a new master, but i don't want his or her father tip the political balance i've achieved. please send me a man suited to be my partner, someone pleasing to my eyes, someone pleasing to my people. heavenly beings, i-"

her vision darkened, and the empress fell into slumber before she finished her prayer.

.

when she stirred awake, hashirama found herself laying in a small hut. on the small table nearby were an opened letter and several metal pins she recognized as royal insignias. night insects buzzed aloud outside, accompanied by rain.

she had been kidnapped, that was true, but she was bothered because her sleep was caused by the same trick the empress used to her consorts. so who-

"pardon my rough welcome, your majesty." a man facing away from her kneeled nearby, feeding wood into the fire. its light illuminated rough outline of his body; tall, quite muscular, with hair longer and messier than hers. "best not having royal guards on my doorstep."

"who..." hashirama pulled herself to sitting position. "who has the audacity to kidnap the ruler of the realm?"

he chuckled. "just think of me saving your majesty from the upcoming downpour."

"you're my subject," she said, ire building up within her. "mine is everything that lies under the heavens. this disobedience-"

"but mine is everything that lies under my roof. so look up, your majesty, and tell me if you see the stars."

hashirama glanced up briefly, knowing she just lost the argument. when her gaze returned below, it landed upon the man's face.

seeing her confused face, he asked, "you don't know me?"

"heaven's above," the empress hissed. "is that you, madara?"

"took you long enough."

"fifteen years is long enough to forget the face of my childhood friend."

"thought my sister described me thoroughly in her letters to you," he said, glancing at the letter. "i heard your prayer. i fit all your criteria."

"...explain."

"i please your subjects." madara's lips were pulled upward slightly. "you have several corrupt lords. i took their treasures and use them to buy food and medicine for the people they neglect. i'm a commoner-"

"a criminal," hashirama cut in, half amused.

"only to those lords. i left their subordinate asleep," he replied quick. "are your consorts unpleasant?"

"they're pleasant to the empress." her shoulders slumped, her body bent forward a little. "not myself. they still see me as a tool to gain power."

"so i've heard."

she never wrote this matter in her letters, only brief mentions. "how...?"

"i have my ways other than your letters." madara draped a blanket over her body. "if the noblest woman of the realm still worries about men in her bedchamber, then..." he trailed off.

"your trick still helps, i'm just worried for a different reason now."

he changed the topic, "are you saying yes to my offer?"

"depends," a playful smile bloomed on her lips, "are you pleasing to my eyes?"

"so you don't mind a criminal," madara teased, pushing his long bangs away from his face, "as long as he's handsome."

"you're the answer of my prayer; a heaven-sent," hashirama replied, reaching to caress his cheek, "who am i to deny a gift from the gods-?"

madara held her hand, grinning. "i didn't say you can touch."

hashirama chuckled, pushing his collar to reveal his chest using her free hand. "you're my subject..."

he caught her wrist, pushed her to the soft pelt and held both hands above her head. his long hair cascaded around them, blocking the light. "you're still under my roof, empress or not, at the mercy of a thief. behave."

the empress let her eyes wandered downwards, to where his knees flanked her thighs, and took a glimpse of the skin behind his dull clothing. "so what are you waiting for, lord thief? will you claim your treasure, or let her return to her gilded chamber?"

"does she really want to return?" madara asked back, lowering his head to her neck to land a kiss on her jugular.

"she does, nnh..." hashirama shifted underneath him, cutting whatever smallest distances left between their bodies. "and she'd like a souvenir-her gift from the heavens..."

"i can arrange that if her majesty is willing to receive it now." madara pushed himself up.

at that, hashirama's laugh burst. "that is her sole purpose in being here, no?" she whispered, untying her clothes. "gift me an heir, madara."

madara took off his own clothes. "as you wish."

.

two moon phases after she returned from the summer palace, the empress was declared pregnant. hashirama said the child was sired by none of her consorts, but she never revealed who, not even to her own brother. her consorts were told to return home immediately.

in the following weeks, the empire was swept by news of corrupt lords being arrested under multiple charges. the empress imprisoned them and gave the new royal insignias to worthier people. the band of thief who once frequented the lords' castles was no longer heard, but the empress' brother still hunting them down. on the seventh moon phase, he returned to the palace bringing a man who's said to be the leader of the thieves to be executed before the court.

"keep your eyes down," tobirama shouted. "it's insolent to look at her majesty like that."

madara, while bound, refused to submit that easily. "i'm just wondering if her majesty and her heir are healthy."

"you-!"

"let him be, brother," hashirama said from her throne. "i am healthy. so is our child, madara."

the silence was deafening before tobirama broke it with his roar.

"heaven's above, sister-what?!"

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

 **how come it gets this long tho**


End file.
